What to think?
by GreenGreyBlue
Summary: He always wrote things on his wrist. Not on his hand or on a slip of paper, it was always on his wrist. He never noticed that he did it, and he never noticed that Lavi noticed, that Allen liked pressing things to his wrist.
1. Chapter 1

**What are you suppose to think?**

He always wrote things on his wrist. Not on his hand or on a slip of paper, it was always on his wrist.

Lavi noticed the way he always did this, and the way his thumb would run along the veins of his wrists with out him even noticing. He would laugh, carry on a conversation, the whole time not realising that his thumb was running up and down his arm. Occasionally he would bend his thumb, and his nail would dig lightly into his fleshy, and then bend back and start running the pad of his thumb up and down his arm again. He never noticed that he did it, and he never noticed that Lavi noticed, that Allen liked pressing things to his wrist.

He was constantly doing it. When he opened his locker he would run his arm down the edge of it. In H.P.E he would would winde the jump rope around his arm a few times before using it to warm up. The same in music, he would wrap guitar strings around his wrist and leave them on all lesson. During Chemistry he was constantly dropping beakers and phials, always managing to cut a finger or two when he went to clean it up. In English he would run the edge of his ruler from the tip of his finger down, down, down to the crook of his arm and then back up again. Of course at lunch his thumb would rub at his wrist while he talked with his other friends.

The things Allen were beginning to say were strange too. At lunch breaks the other kids would exchanging pointless facts, stupid things like, on average women dream more than men, apparently pigs couldn't look up, as it turns out the Yo-Yo was originally a hunting tool, and then Allen came out with.

_"Did you know the largest cause of death in males between the ages of fourteen to twenty-five is suicide?"_

Yet no one noticed, and it was beginning to drive Lavi insane.

How could no one be seeing this? How was it not annoying the crap out of everyone like it was him?

It went on for weeks, months even, and the bandaids around his fingers increased. Yet still, no one seemed to notice. It irritated Lavi, he didn't know what annoyed him more. The incessant movements Allen would make, or that no one noticed a fucking thing.

In the end he had to talk to someone about it, but who?

He picked Lenalee to talk to. She had changed a bit in the last year but she always had a sympathetic ear. Or at least she use to.

"He's just doing it for attention," she said simply.

"What?" Lavi gapped.

She didn't bother responding to him as she was already too busy getting her tonsils assaulted. She changed so easily, a swift hit to the side of the head with hormones and a boyfriend and she was someone else. Now she didn't seem to care about anything other than the appearance she created. It was all there, look at me I have a boyfriend, we're having sex, the both of us are cooler than you.

Lavi thought that maybe if he told her then not only would he have someone to talk about Allen with, maybe she's snap out of it. Maybe she would think about someone who use to mean a lot to her.

All he succeeded in doing was spreading rumours about Allen around the school.

And that's when things got really bad.

Students would taunt him, shove him, call him emo. Laugh at him, seclude him, throw scissors and knives at him. They'd throw eye liner and make up at him, tell him he needed to look the part.

He withdrew himself and instead of sitting with the usual group at lunch, he would sit behind the hall or out the front of the school. It was when he constantly started wearing long sleeve shirts that Lavi finally had enough. He had a reputation, every one in high school did and Lavi had a good one. He was cool, with his eye patch and his head band, everyone wanted to know him or be with him. He knew spending time with Allen would ruin that for him, but he had to make a decision.

He had known Allen since the sixth grade, he could easily call him a good friend. He had to wonder if he was a good enough friend to effectively sever ties with everyone he knew.

When he saw those tiny red droplets soak through Allen's white shirt, he made that decision. Fuck all these people he thought he knew, they were just fleeting friends, people he knew for a few short years. Once high school was done at the end of the year, he would never see most of them again. But, Allen… Allen was someone he would want to see again, so he said good bye to popularity and went to find Allen.

He found him sitting behind the hall, his back press so hard against the wall that he looked like he just wanted to disappear into it. He was smoking too, numerous crumpled butts pressed into the ground beside him. Lavi didn't know he smoked but it looked like it was a new thing. Every time he raised his shaky hand and took a draw, his face would screw up in disgust and he would suppress a cough. There was a packet of the things sitting beside him, and Lavi walked up, sat down beside him and lit one up, even though he had never had a smoke in his life.

Instant addiction.

"Hey, Allen."

"H-hey, Lavi, what's new?" Allen asked, refusing to look at him.

"Not much, you?"

"Same old."

He took a drag and stubbed the cigarette out on the ground, immediately lighting another one up with a shaky hand.

"Give us your hand for a second," Lavi said, perching his cigarette in his mouth, scrunching up one eye from the smoke.

"What for?" Allen asked, finally looking at him, but with apprehension.

"I want to read your palm."

"Read my palm?"

"Yeah, I've been reading this book, now hand over your hand."

He was a little hesitant at first, but slowly his hand came over to hover in from of him. Lavi cupped the hand lightly in his own, squinting his eyes as if scrutinising the hand. When he felt Allen relax a little, he grabbed his sleeve and pushed it up passed his elbow. He grabbed Allen's hand tightly when he tried to pull it away, his other hand keeping his sleeve pushed up.

"Have an accident did you?" Lavi asked, looking down at the four inch long bandages that wound around Allen's wrist.

"Y-Yeah, an accident, I fell over and, scrapped a rock," Allen stuttered.

"Really," Lavi said with a raised eye brow, dropping his hand.

He reached over and grabbed Allen's other hand, pushing the sleeve up as well. His other arm was also wrapped it bandages, but all the way up to his elbow.

"What's your excuse this time? Did you trip over twice?"

Allen remained silent but ripped his hand out of Lavi's grip. He snuffed out his cigarette that was only half done, and lit up another one.

"Why're you doing this, Allen?"

"Why not, they all thinking I'm doing it anyway, so why hold myself back anymore?"

"Why're you really doing it?"

"I don't know…"

"Don't give me that shit!" Lavi yelled, feeling himself getting too emotional.

"I don't know, I really don't!" Allen yelled, taking a few heavy draws from him smoke, " I don't know why I feel this way! I have no reason to! I've got a great life, my father loves me, I'm doing well in school. I have friends… had friends, so.. s-so I don't know why I want to do this. I hate it, I hate it so much and I hate myself."

He gritted his teeth and slapped his hand to his head, and then started to beat his wrist to his head.

"There's something wrong with me, Lavi," he said, continuing to bash his head.

"Stop that!" Lavi yelled, grabbing his wrist and pulling it down.

"I d-dont know why, but for a long time, I've just wanted to dig into my flesh. I get these… really dark thoughts and, I just want to cut myself. I'm constantly thinking about it, and what's the point any more? I didn't want anyone to know, but they all think I'm doing it, all talk about me, so why the fuck not right?"

Lavi's hand was still wrapped tightly around Allen's wrist. He pried his fingers away from his wrist and slipped it down to link their hands, trying to comfort him.

"Lavi," Allen said, his voice quaking, "I cried in the shower the other night for two hours. I didn't just cry, I sobbed, and, wailed, and, and, I don't know why! There's no reason!"

He felt drained, his body slumping and falling to the side, his head came to rest on Lavi's shoulder.

"There is something wrong with me, Lavi, and I hate it. I feel selfish, I have no reason at all."

"Have you thought about talking to someone? The school counsellor?"

"Why the fuck would I want to tell some stranger that there is nothing wrong?!" Allen spat, stubbing out yet another cigarette.

Lavi noticed that his own cigarette had burned down to the filter. He turned and flicked it away before turning back to Allen who was shaking badly while trying to light another cigarette. Lavi snatched it out of his hand and threw it away.

"Why not, talk to me? I'll listen.. okay?" Lavi said, barely louder than a whisper.

"No, I don't want to talk to you," Allen said coldly.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want you to have to go through this. I don't want them to shun you too. Remember, just a few weeks ago, I was popular too. If you start hanging around with me then who knows what they will say… right?"

Lavi took a deep breath, and with it he accepted everything that was about to come with his next words.

"I don't care… about them."

With those words Allen finally broke down.

He grabbed onto Lavi's shirt and cried against him. He cried so loud and so desperately that Lavi felt a pull at his heart. As Lavi tried to comfort Allen as best as he could, he had to wonder what he had gotten himself into.

...

Despite his hesitations Lavi continued to sit with Allen at lunch and listen to him and comfort him when he needed it, and of course the rest of the school started talking. What was with, Lavi? Where did he go at lunch? Why did he stop talking to his 'friends'? The rumours spread. He had a girlfriend. He was taking drugs. He was skipping to meet with a gang.

Then he was seen with Allen, and new rumours began. He was the same as Allen. They would sit behind the hall and cut each other. They would sit behind the hall and take drugs. They would sit behind the hall and make out. They would sit behind the hall and have sex.

They sat behind the hall, both now equally shunned.

Lavi was kept behind in class, it was deliberate, he offered to help the teacher clean up after chemistry. It was common for students to just run out and leave their mess behind as soon as the lunch bell rang, so Lavi offered to help clean up everything. It was not something he would usually do, be he didn't want to meet up with Allen just yet. He didn't want to say he was starting to regret helping Allen, but it was hard. He heard the rumours that were going around about the two of them. He now knew what it was felt like to be pushed and shoved when simply walking between classes. It was all getting to him and in class, when he heard someone very deliberately talking about '_those emo fags'_, he felt that he needed some time away from Allen.

He wasn't going to abandon him, but he just wanted a few minutes filled with a menial task to help level him out. He didn't see any harm in it, and if he left things long enough, all the students would be settled into the lunch break and would be less focused on what Lavi was doing and where he was going. He knew he didn't have to put up with it much longer though, Allen and his graduation was in just a few days. They didn't really need to be at school at this point, everything was handed in and the finally marks had come out. So really going to school at this point was just a royalty, or parents forcing their students to go. Lavi was regretting coming, he knew Allen was forced, he knew Allen didn't want to be there anymore. At all, he didn't want to be anywhere anymore… he told him that.

He had to go.

He bolted out of the room, ignoring the teacher as he called out after him. He ran down the walk ways, ignoring the other students as he pushed passed them. He heard the words that were thrown at him but he didn't care, he had to get to Allen. He ran flat out all the way across the school until he reached the hall. He skidded around the corner and found Allen slumped against the wall.

"Allen!" he called out, skidding to a stop on his knees in front of him, "I'm sorry, I had to stay back in Chem."

"No you didn't, you wanted to stay back. I know you're sick of me, you hate me, I know you do. You hate me because I ruined you."

"No, Allen I don't care about that shit!" he shouted, knowing deep inside that there was a small voice that regretted it almost as much as he cared about Allen.

"Fuck you!" Allen shouted, burying his face in his hands, "Don't pretend to care," he followed softer.

It was then that Lavi noticed the blood that was streaming from his left arm, his right hand clenching a cigarette between shaken fingers. He quickly pulled off his school shirt, standing only in a singlet, and stepped towards Allen, pulling his hands away from his face.

"Fuck off!" Allen yelled, trying to pull his arm away from Lavi.

He didn't loosen his grip and ended up being able to press his school shirt against Allen's wrist. He patted at Allen's wrist and then drew the shirt away to inspect the damage. The cut was big, bigger than anything he had seen Allen do before, it went straight from his wrist to his elbow. It wasn't deep enough to kill him unless it was left for a long amount of time, but that didn't stop it from being bad. He let out a sigh and tied his shirt around Allen's arm.

"Let's get you home so we can take care of this properly," he said, gently pulling Allen to his feet.

Allen stood up, looking miserable but then smiled slightly.

"It's at the top of town," he said grabbing his bag and walking away.

Lavi followed, ignoring the stares they got as the two of them walked out the front of the school. He needed to be there for Allen, no matter what they all said, school was over soon, it wouldn't matter soon. Allen was more important, so why was he cringing so much at their stares? He found himself dragging his feet, slowly drawing out the distance between Allen and himself. He thought about running away, leaving Allen to be, but he just felt guilty. He couldn't' leave him now, and that made him feel more guilty. With school almost over he didn't have to worry about people anymore, but he did have to worry about Allen continuing to need him.

When he had first offered to help Allen he didn't think it would last as long as it did. He thought that in a few weeks Allen would get over it perhaps. When that didn't happen he started to wonder how long he would be stuck with him. He cared about Allen, he really did, but after a while it all got old and Lavi wanted to do things, anything, something… just as long as it didn't involve Allen. He was beginning to hate having to listen to Allen cry about how there was nothing wrong. He loved him like a little brother, and hated him as one at the same time. He was sick of listening to him, but didn't want him to fade away at the same time. He was torn and found that it was easier to just stay with him for the time being, at least until he got back to the house for now.

Allen's house wasn't what Lavi expected. It was huge, not just huge, but overly huge, from what he had heard form Allen it was just him and his father, so why did they live in a house with so many rooms? Allen didn't give the rest of the house a second glance but led the way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind them once Lavi had entered. He headed over to the cabinet under the sink while Lavi stood by the door, feeling a little uncomfortable. He didn't want to be there in that large and empty house. He didn't want to be locked in the bathroom while Allen tried to pull a large bag out of the cabinet under the sink. He wanted to run away, but instead he watched as Allen pulled and tugged at the bag under the sink, trying to release it from it's packed in confines.

He managed to pull the back out with a tug, and as a result fell back, hissing in pain as his arm hit the ground.

"I'll get that," Lavi said with a sigh.

He stepped forward and picked up the bag that Allen was gripping. It was a large first aid kit.

"Sit on the tub and hold out your arm," Lavi said, holding in another sigh.

Allen sat on the edge of the tub like told and held out his arm, a small, strange smile touching his lips. Lavi knelt in front of him, opening the bag and then unwrapping his shirt from Allen's arm.

"Have you heard of bin babies?" Allen asked as Lavi worked on his arm.

"Bin babies?" he asked, trying to concentrate.

"Bin babies, it's when someone dumps their new born in a bin, and simply walks away."

"Oh yeah, I've heard of that," Lavi said, getting out the disinfectant along with some gauze and bandages, "They usually only make the news when they've been found alive though."

"Exactly… you know… I'm a bin baby. I wasn't left in a basket out front of a orphanage or even out the front of a church or nunnery. Nope, I was dumped in a bin."

The words made Lavi feel cold.

"But, your father?" Lavi asked, even as he dabbed at his bleeding arm.

"I was adopted, I never told anyone. I was adopted by Mana and his wife Maria. Mum and Dad, but mum died when I was around four."

Lavi didn't know what to say so he worked on Allen's arm, pressing fresh gauze to his arm and then winding a bandage around it.

"And your father just told you all that?" Lavi said at last, the need to know pushing him.

"Of course not, he just told me I was adopted, the rest I found out all on my own. I went through his things. I was curious, I wanted to know who my real parents were even if I considered my Mum and Dad my real Mum and Dad. I guess I wasn't expecting what I found."

Lavi finished off tying the bandage and looked up at Allen, he didn't know what to say. When he saw the strange smile on Allen's face he didn't know what to think. Why was he smiling that way?

"Lavi, I really want to thank you, for everything you've done for me. It… it really helped you know, and I'm sorry if I was depressing and all that."

"It's fine," Lavi said, going to stand up.

"Don't go!" Allen said desperately, grabbing the edge of Lavi's singlet and pulling him back down, "Stay, just a little while longer."

Lavi knelt back down in front of him again, and Allen slide off the tub, kneeling himself. He tentatively raised his arms and wrapped them around Lavi. He leant again him resting his cheek on the others shoulder, his body trembling silently. Lavi knew he should probably hug him back, but his arms remained hanging stiffly by his side. He told himself to lift his arms, give him comfort, but he couldn't.

Allen's grip on him only got tighter and he balled his fists into the fabric of Lavi's singlet.

"Thank you," he whispered, chanting, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Allen lifted his head from Lavi shoulder, his cheek brushing against Lavi's. Slowly he moved to face Lavi and then pressed their lips together. Allen instantly melted against him, his whole body feeling lighter than it had it months. He had wanted to do this for weeks. He had a yearning for Lavi that at times hurt more than the dark pressure he had pushing in his mind. Moving his lips against Lavi's soft and frozen ones, Allen let out a sigh of relief.

Lavi remained frozen, his mind trying to process what was happening. Why was Allen kissing him? He didn't want this, and he didn't want Allen depending on him more than he already did. He felt Allen move against him and then Lavi did what most males would do when another male friend kissed him.

He shoved Allen away from him and stood up, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth.

"What the fuck was that?!" he yelled down at Allen.

"But, I thought," Allen mumbled, looking up at Lavi with a lost expression.

"There is something wrong with you, you're disgusting."

He left the room, not looking back or bothering to take his blood stained shirt with him. Walking home he tried not to cringe at his own words, hoping he wouldn't come to regret them.

…

_Disgusting._

Allen was kneeling on the bathroom sink, looking at himself in the mirror. He stared straight into his own eyes, his breath becoming laboured.

_Disgusting._

"S-shit," Allen panted.

_Disgusting._

"Shit," he said again, bashing his free hand against the mirror. He clenched his fist and bashed it repeatedly against the mirror, and then his head.

"Shit, shit, FUCK!" he yelled, slamming his head so hard against the mirror that it cracked.

He rested his head against the glass, breathing deeply. He could feel blood running down his face, falling into his eye. Blinking the blood away from his eye, he pulled away to stare himself in the eye again.

_Disgusting._

The tears came and flowed down his face, mixing with the thin trail of blood. Looking down he looked at the mess he had created in the sink and all over his hand. Lavi was right, there was something wrong with him, something disgustingly wrong with him.

He looked at himself through the cracked glass. He hated himself, he hated his face and right now he hated Lavi, as much as he loved him.

Slipping off the sink he fixed his pants and left the bathroom, grabbing Lavi's shirt as he did. Padding back to his room, he went straight to his sock draw and pulled it open. Rolled up in a pair of socks he didn't wear anymore was his razor. It was small and was used by panel beaters to scrap stickers and paint off the side of cars. He had, had it for so long that the edges were dulled slightly and he didn't even know where he had got it from anymore. With the razor safe in his hand he went back to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

His hand tightened around Lavi's shirt and his other around the razor. He brought the shirt to his face and inhaled, smelling Lavi, he missed him already. Tossing the shirt to the side, the stained object landing in the tub, he stepped up to the cabinet under the sink and pulled it open. Shoved in the back corner were a set of clippers, the cord wrapped around them and the whole thing caked in a white substance that all neglected bathroom objects eventually gathered.

He unwound the cord and plugged it in, the clippers starting up instantly despite the years of not being used. He set the clippers to the lowest possible setting and then stepped in front of the mirror.

Bringing them up, he pressed them to his scalp and pushed them back, the first locks of auburn hair falling and landing into the sink. He made quick work of it, shaving all the hair from his head with random clumps being missed. When the majority of it was gone he turned the clippers off and set the aside. As earlier he climbed up onto the basin and knelt on it, staring at himself in the mirror.

_Disgusting._

Picking up the razor he brought it to his face, swiping it across his cheek with an experimentally slash. The blood pooled and fell down quickly, dripping off his chin into the basin. He then pressed the razor to the cut he already had on his head, digging it in and carving into his forehead. The blood splattered down his face and over his fingers, making the razor slippery in his grip. He had to close his eye as the blood got into it, but it helped make his job easier because next he began to draw a line down his face, over his eye and down his cheek, crossing the slash he had already made.

His hands shook and he began to feel sick and dizzy, but he wasn't done yet. A few more swipes and he would be done, although it was getting hard to keep his hand and his head still. He clenched his jaw and got on with it, slashing his face, creating a 'Z' like pattern across his face. When he was done he let out the breath he had been holding the entire time. He panted heavily, the blood flowing down just as heavily. He was done, almost, he just had to do the same thing again to the other side.

He went to change the blade to his right hand but somewhere his fingers slipped and the blade clatter down to rest in the sink, nestled amongst the shaved locks and the patters of blood. His head swayed as he looked down, sending droplets of blood flying across the room. Reaching down he tried to grab the razor out of the basin, his fingers scraping against the porcelain, stray hairs sticking to his fingers. He swayed again while trying to grab the blade, and tumbled backwards. He fell off the basin limply, his body crashing to the floor and his head smacking harshly against the tiles.

He rolled his head too and fro, trying to will himself to stand. When willing his arms to push him up, all he received was a slight twitch of the fingers. When telling his legs to move, he got as far as moving his foot slightly to the left. He couldn't move and his eyes felt heavy. He let them drift shut, he just needed a small nap. When he woke up he'd finish the other side, and then he's start on his wrists.

...

**It was meant to be a one-shot, but it was getting long so I stopped it here.**

**I've got enough to work on but I sat down and just started typing this.**

**I'm now wondering what is wrong with me.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Warnings: Server angst, like angst overload, oh yeah, and it's extremely shit, it's a shit chapter, boring as all fuck and shit, shit, shit, shit… whatever.**

**From bad...**

Graduation day came and Lavi found his mind wondering to Allen. If there was a day Allen would came Lavi thought it would at least be Graduation Day. Yet as he lined up next to the other students to have their photo taken, there was no sign of him at all. Guilt gnawed at Lavi's mind and he tried to distract himself by focusing on the people around him. With a sigh and a slight roll of the eyes he realised he was standing next to the slut. She had gotten her self knocked up and she had been with so many guys that she didn't know who the father was. Or so the rumour went.

Lavi had to mentally slap himself. He should know better than anyone just how wrong rumours could be. Looking closer at the girl he could see just how tired she looked. She seemed like she was constantly on the verge of tears and under the sadness he could see that she was terrified. Next to her was another girl that looked equally as tired. They held hands secretly, their grip so tight there skin was white with patches of bright red. He didn't know anything about this girl, just what people had said, and now he found that he wanted to know her and her story. He also found that he was really beginning to hate rumours.

Apparently the guy two rows up and to the left was a massive pot head. The girl in the back row would give head jobs for a few bucks. The girl two down from her lived with her grandmother because her parents didn't want her. The guy four rows in front had sex with his uncle. He sniffed coke, she flashed the teacher for a better mark, she wore the same pair of underwear everyday and never bathed, he jerked off to sheep. Who knew what was true and what wasn't? The rumours that went around had to start somewhere, but at what point did they change and mutate into something so sinister? Rumours so easily became something vicious and painful.

Lavi hated himself for once believing and even help spreading the rumours. He was glad that this was all over. No more school, no more idiots, no more rumours about Allen and him. Another pang of guilt hit Lavi hard like a slap to the face when thinking about Allen. When graduation was over he was going to go see how Allen was. Just one or two photos and then he could walk out, and never see them again. There would be no after party for him, no drunken shenanigans, no last minute hook ups, and no vomiting. Apparently it was a right of passage. It was a right of passage he could do with out, he'd rather talk to Allen. He needed to sort things out with him, and they definitely needed to talk about that kiss. While they were at it Lavi would try and convince Allen to be less needy towards him.

"On the count of three people," the photographer called.

Lavi's stirred from his thoughts and looked forward, trying to smile. Next to him the pregnant girl started crying, her friend shaking hard with the effort of holding in her own tears. Lavi suddenly didn't want to be in the photo anymore.

"1, 2, 3!"

Lavi let his head fall as the camera flash went off. In the photo he was nothing but a red blur amongst a sea of smiling faces. As soon as the photo was done everyone started screaming with joy and the neat rows gradually broke up. Groups of girls joined hands and jumped up and down squealing. The males shook hands and slapped each other on the back. Then the two groups mingles and everyone started to sign each other's shirts. Simple empty phrases 'Miss You!', 'We had a great time didn't we!?', 'BFF!', 'I love you', most of them followed by love hearts. Not a single person approached Lavi.

He didn't really want to have to put up with anyone anyway, but he couldn't help but feel a little hurt. He'd known these people, seen them everyday, for five years. Now for no reason at all but a rumour they were writing him out of their lives.

"Fuck you all," Lavi said, while people passed him by.

He left the presentation without saying a word to anyone. If he passed one of them again on the street fifty years from now it would be two soon.

…

He found his way back to Allen's easily enough. For some reason the whole journey to Allen's house that day was firmly ingrained in his head. Mostly it was the journey back from the house that he remembered. The guilt he felt that day made him remember, the guilt he felt while walking back was even worse. He found himself wondering why he had let things sit this long. It had been days and he hadn't seen even a glimpse of Allen. The fact that he hadn't shown up for graduation seemed to jar Lavi's mind into doing something.

Arriving out the front of Allen's house, Lavi was just in time to see someone run out the door. HIs whole appearance seemed like it was just thrown together at the last moment. His clothes were wrinkled and looking puffed up. HIs hair was a little too long for a man his age. He was approaching the far end of middle aged and had seemed to age well so far. Yet his hair looked dead and limp, flat against his scalp with curls forming down near his shoulders. The curls looked limp and greasy, uncared for. There were some men who could grow their hair long no matter what age, but this man didn't seem to be one of them. It looked tacky and with the hurried look on his face, he altogether looked like someone just about ready to fall apart.

It took him awhile, but Lavi recognised the dishevelled manned running from the house. He had seen him in bits and pieces over the years. Picking Allen up after school some days, they had brushed passed each other at parent/teacher meetings. The one time he had ran into Allen at the shopping centre he had seen that man walk away as they talked.

"Mr Walker?" he called out nervously.

"Yes?" the man almost yelped, turning around quickly.

"Hi, I'm, Allen's friend, Lavi. I was just wondering why Allen didn't show up for graduation? Or.. the last week?"

"L-Lavi," he stuttered, "You're Lavi?"

"Um, yeah?"

"You should come with me, I was just picking up some fresh clothes for Allen," he said, his gaze desperate.

"What do you mean?" Lavi asked, dreading the answer.

"Allen's, in the hospital. Will you come with me? You mean a lot to him."

Lavi took a step back like he had been kicked in the chest. Allen, in the hospital, his fault, the guilt.

Lavi followed after Allen's father, facing the ground, his heart pounding loudly in his chest drawing him forward. He got in to the passenger seat while Allen's father threw the bag in the back seat. Slamming the door shut a little too harshly, he got into the driver's seat and sped off. The hospital was a fifteen minute drive away, and for the first five minutes the two of them sat in an uncomfortable silence. Lavi almost wanted to shout just so the silence was broke. He was about to when the man next to him spoke.

"I came home the other night…" he started, pausing a full minute before continuing, "I came home, and went to the bathroom, and, Allen was unconscious on the floor."

The thudding in Lavi's chest increased to a painful level. He was dreading the next words, would he say that Allen had slashed his wrists. That was the only thing that Lavi could think off. Had he caused Allen to finally dig too far to the point he almost died?

"There was, a great deal of blood. At first I thought, someone must of broken in, but, when we got to the hospital I found that it was self inflicted."

More silence, more guilt.

"When, he woke up, he told me, a lot, and he, told me about you. So, you know what Allen has been going through the last few months?"

"Yes," Lavi breathed, cringing at what he was about to say, "I've been trying to help him out."

"He told me," the man said faking a smile. It was a smile where forcing the edges of the mouth up was so heart bracingly obvious that it dropped a second later.

"I didn't know," he said sadly, "I don't know how I didn't notice. But, Lavi, he's covered it scars, how come I didn't see? He told me you noticed, how did you notice?"

"I just noticed… that Allen, liked pressing things to his wrist," Lavi said, looking away and out the window, "And, a few other things."

"Just his wrist?" he asked.

"Yeah why?"

More silence, and Lavi didn't realise that his guilt could feel even worse. They reached the hospital and pulled into the parking garage, taking a paper slip that would ensure large amounts of money would be paid later. Lavi unbuckled his seat belt and went to exit it the car, only to notice that the other occupant of the car had refused to move, his hands clenching the steering wheel.

"What… What's up?" Lavi asked.

"Allen told me something else," he said through clenched teeth, obvious anger shining through.

What? What had Allen told him? Had he told him the last words Lavi had spoken to him?

_Disgusting._

"He told me he was in love with you," he said turning his head to look at Lavi.

_Fear._

"I don't think he really is," Lavi started, "I just think.. what ever is wrong with him, that sounds bad doesn't it?"

"Please continue," Allen's father spoke with an overly clear voice.

"It's just… for the past few months I've been the only person Allen could talk to. To him I'm the only person that cared, so I think he simple believes he loves me. Does that… help?"

"Why wouldn't he tell me?" he practically spat in anger, " I care! Why wont he trust me? Why wouldn't he tell me what he was going through?"

"I don't know!" Lavi yelled, scared at the others reaction, "But there are just some things you can't tell your parents! You know! Sometimes it's hard to tell your parents anything. Especially if you're a teenager having a having a hard time at school!"

He yelled at Allen's father, his own feelings coming out. Just because they were your parents and thought they knew everything, doesn't mean they did. Lavi didn't have parents himself but he had a grandfather that thought that since he was so old and had watched Lavi grow that, that therefore meant he knew everything about him. It annoyed Lavi that these people that were apparently adults assumed to know everything, just because they were older. They were older sure, but it seemed that at a certain point they all forgot what it was like to be a teenager. They didn't know what it felt like to face raging hormones and newly developing feelings. They no longer knew what it felt like to have your body change right in front of you, or the fear it could no longer knew what it was like to have strange feelings that you couldn't explain.

To a teenager, looking at an adult could only cause anger and fear. Just because they seemed to have the whole thing figured out doesn't mean the rest of them should suddenly understand.

Adults and teenagers, who were on the cusp of adulthood, were just like oil and water.

Even if teenagers didn't realise that the confusion they felt would last for the rest of their life.

…

He had a lot of time to think while he was in the hospital, after all there was nothing else to do there. Breakfast came at seven, lunch right on twelve, dinner was at six, snacks for in-between were provided at each meal. Usually in the form of a piece of fruit, perhaps a packet of nuts or two small biscuits. Visiting hours were from one-thirty until three-thirty, with a nap period from three-thirty to four thirty and another visiting period from four thirty until six. The hours in-between were empty except for check ups and forced bathing times. Since Allen wasn't sleeping much, he had a lot of time to think.

He had a lot to think about, but he always came back to the thoughts he was having on that night, when he did everything that caused him to be in the hospital. Disgusting, he was called, and it wasn't the first time. He was obviously disgusting to his mother or father when they had dumped him in a bin and walked away. He kissed a girl in grade five, she called him gross. In grade two he picked at a scab on his elbow which caused a squeal of horror from the girl sitting next to him. In grade ten he sat on a couch at a party, while the two guys across from him laughed at him for being a virgin. When he first started school, just in grade one, when they were divided into groups of six, the other five said he was a ugly because he was given the hand out last, and the ugly one got the hand out last.

In grade nine he came home close to tears and told his father that people had been making fun of him. His father had simple turned to him and said,

'Well have you looked in the mirror?"

He had walked to the bathroom and did what his father said, he looked in the mirror. His hair was long and reached his tail bone, but it was untidy and had a tendency to have a mind of it's own. His eye's were smeared with eye liner, because that was what he had been led to believe was cool. He had just wanted to fit it when he decided to wear it. Looking at his clothes he saw that they were stretch from him endlessly pulling at the hem of his shirt or at his sleeves.

Of course he looked stupid, he never thought of it. He was stupid looking, what male let his hair hang down to his waist so unkept? Those people were right, his father was right, he was ridiculous when viewed from outside, disgusting even.

That night he clipped his hair up to his ears. The next morning his father gaped at him, asking him why he cut off his hair which was so long and healthy. There was just no way of pleasing everyone was there?

Yet cutting his hair made the people at school leave him alone, and for a while he was popular. Even if the night he did it, he slashed a knife across the top of his thighs.

All the thoughts of previous rejection rattled around his head while he lay in his hospital bed. After all he had a lot of time to think, and since rejection was foremost in his mind. That was what he thought about that most. His rejection from Lavi was obviously number one in his mind. He was so sure that Lavi felt the same. Why did it have to turn out the way it did? Now Allen just felt stupid and thinking about it too long made him feel sick. Now he'd probably never see Lavi again, all because he misinterpreted. Knowing that he was never going to see the person he loved ever again was a truly depressing thought. He needed to get away for a while, he needed some silence. He thought that a hospital would be silent, but there was constant noise day and night.

He shared a room with three other people with a fourth bed empty. The man across from him was constantly talking on his phone, even though they were all suppose to be turned off. When ever a nurse walked passed or entered the room he would hide it under the sheets. As soon as they were gone out it would come and he walk talk endlessly. The woman next to him seemed incapable of lying still, and was constantly getting up to sneak a cigarette. She'd toss and turn, mumble and cough, and then get up and leave for a few minutes, returning smell like cigarettes. On top of all that there was the constant buzz of machines, the chatter from the nurses and doctors. Then there was that annoying bell that would ring out at all hours.

The noise was starting to piss him off. HIs father would be back soon enough and then he would have to listen to a different kind of noise. HIs fathers questions and his constant worrying when Allen so much as moved. He didn't want to explain his feelings to his father, it was hard. He told him as much as he could, even told him about Lavi because he had to tell someone. It was strange that he didn't want to tell his father one thing and was dying to tell him another. Yet he'd already told his father everything he was willing to and right now he wanted some peace and quiet. But before that, he got up and wondered over to the woman next to him.

She was out cold for once, all the fidgeting must have worn her out. It was easy enough for Allen to walk over to her set of draws and steal her cigarettes and lighter. He shoved them up under his air pit and left his room, at least his father was bringing him clothes, he was getting sit of the hospital gown. At least it wasn't one of those ones that showed his arse or anything. He darted passed the the nurses without being noticed and left the ward. Once there he didn't know where to go next, so he wandered aimlessly. Going up and down hallways and heading further and further up the floors. He ended up finding himself on the roof. It wasn't as quiet as he would have liked, the sound of cars darting passed down below breaking the silence.

He was kind of annoyed that a fence ran around the whole edge of the roof. It was like even the hospital staff didn't trust him and put this up just to mock him. He sat down and leant against the fence, the movement rattling the fence the whole way along. He stuck a cigarette in his mouth and lit it up. It wasn't exactly, but it was a lot more peaceful than the hospital room.

…

Arriving to find your son had gone missing and that none of the staff knew where he was is enough to worry any parent. With the stresses of the last week and what had been revealed to him, Allen's father went from panicked to furious in a matter of seconds. He took his fury out on the nurses, cursing them and calling them useless. Lavi felt embarrassed and spent a lot of time inspecting the carpet. He could understand why he was so upset but what he was saying and doing was downright rude. Lavi knew that Allen would be mortified if he knew how his father was treating someone else. Well, he knew how _old_ Allen would feel, the current one he wasn't so sure about. The Allen that had emerge in the last few months was a much different person.

When he finally had enough of the other man's yelling Lavi shuffled away and went to try and find Allen on his own. He ran through possible options of where he had gone through his head. He didn't think he had left the hospital, and he wasn't one to linger in bathrooms. He doubted Allen would be in one of the patient common rooms. Some how he felt himself drawn upwards. He reached the top floor and went further, out onto the room. He scanned the roof but could see Allen anywhere. There was only one other patient on the roof and he didn't look like Allen, even if they were of the same height.

The person in front of him was completely bald and his face was hidden in bandages. He was sitting against the fence, head down, both arms raised and gripping the fence behind him, a cigarette dangling from his left hand. Lavi scanned the roof a few more times and was about to leave when the stranger caught his eye again. His arms, they were covered in scars and healing cuts. Stepping closer, Lavi realised that this bald and bandaged man in from of him was Allen. When Allen's father had said 'self inflicted' he immediately thought Allen had gone for his wrists again, however it seemed Allen had attacked his own face.

He didn't know wether to run or go and face Allen, both options seemed equally as appealing. It was guilt that led him to make the decision to walk towards Allen instead of away from him. His footsteps alerted Allen, making him look up. The look on his face made Lavi cringe and want to turn away again. His face went through a number of emotions, there was fear, guilt, happiness and at the end relief. Lavi had to force himself towards that face, he wanted to turn and run again. He steeled himself and kept walking, sitting himself down next to Allen.

Allen dropped his hands from the fence and took a drag from his cigarette, glance at Lavi out of the corner of his eye.

"I see you have a new look," Lavi said, cringing at his choice of opening.

"Yeah," Allen rasped.

Silence.

"Why'd you do it?" Lavi asked steadily.

"I don't know."

"Don't start that now," Lavi sighed, "Why'd you do it?"

"I don't know, I felt the need, so I did it. I was thinking a lot of things, and this was how it all came out."

"You're such an idiot," Lavi sighed again.

"Hey, Lavi, wanna see something?"

"What?"

He stubbed out his cigarette and grabbed the end of his hospital gown. He slowly pulled it up and Lavi turned his head away not wanting to know what the hell Allen wanted to show him under the gown.

"It's not what you think, I just want you to see," Allen whispered sadly.

Lavi slowly turned his head to see what Allen wanted to show him. He had pulled the gown up ten inches above his knees. It had revealed a criss cross of red and purple scars, some of them looking a little too deep. Lavi's eyes widened and he gapped at the legs even more. He could see older white scars beneath the red and purple, there were so many.

"i've been doing this for years," Allen said, folding the edge of the gown neatly.

He ran his fingers lightly over the scars before talking again.

"I didn't want anyone to know about it, that's why I cut my legs. But I always felt this pull towards my arms. I guess it's just the thought of cutting my wrist, because that's what we've been led to believe is the best place to cut one self. That's how it works right? And I liked it, I liked cutting into my wrists instead of my legs, but did you know there is a vein in your leg, I think it runs along here," he said tracing his fingers lightly along the inside of his thigh.

Lavi shuddered and looked away again.

"This vein, if it's hit, even slightly, you can bleed out in seconds. Seems a much faster way if you ask me… I don't want to die Lavi, I just don't want to be here, but I don't know where I want to be instead. It's confusing. Where else is there to be? You know, I've been thinking a lot the last few days, there isn't much else to do here, and that man across from me is driving me nuts, heh, more nuts. Well the thing is, I've been thinking, and I think about the stupidest shit. I've been thinking about rejection a lot. I keep thinking of every single time I was rejected, or pushed away. And you know what? It's all really dumb shit. Stupid trivial shit, but when I think about it, it brings me down so hard and it's annoying you know. Why should I care that some little shit head's made fun of me when I was six. Yet I keep coming back to two little things that make the rest of them seem so much worse.

"In grade nine, some shit heads were making fun of me of me, I went home and told Dad. In stead of helping me, telling me they were dicks or something, he basically told me he agreed with them. Almost like they were right, oh by the way, this was about a week after I found out I was dumped in a fucking bin."

He stopped his tirade to grab another cigarette and lit it up. There were a few deep draws before he continued to talk.

"Obviously it's not something you want to hear from your father. Anyway, can you guess what the other little thing is?" Allen asked, peering over at Lavi.

He shook his head, even though he had an inkling.

"It was when you pushed me away. You know Lavi, you could have just told me that you weren't interested in me that way. I would have taken to badly, but you didn't have to say what you did."

"I'm sor.."

"Don't apologise, it'll just piss me off more."

Lavi opened his mouth and closed it just as many times. He wanted to say something but he couldn't figure out what exactly to say. When he did talk again, it wasn't what he meant to say.

"We should get back, your Dad is downstairs yelling at the hospital staff."

"He is?" Allen asked, lighting up another cigarette.

"Yeah, we should get back."

Allen simply shrugged and continued to smoke away.

"If you don't go I'm gonna go tell him where you are. He's loosing the plot down there."

Lavi took a few steps, indicating that he was serious. Allen just looked away and continued to smoke. So he kept on walking, hoping Allen would still be on the roof by the time he made it back to the ward.

"Hey, Lavi!" Allen called.

"Yeah?" Lavi asked spinning around.

"I want to show you something else," he said standing and flicking the cigarette away.

He strode towards Lavi who was stuck stock still. He came to a stop less than a foot away from him. Quickly and without even flinching, he tore the bandages away from his face, revealing everything.

Lavi had to suppress the urge to step back. What he saw before his was worse than anything he had expected. He had carved into this face, and not just a little bit. He had actually drawn a design into his face, right over his eye and into his cheek. His eye was still held shut by a tiny strip of tape. The same tiny strips of tape were across his eye lid, keeping it help together from where it had been slit in two. There were a few stitches holding his face together, not all over the whole thing though. Lavi felt himself staring at the fact that he could see into Allen's body through his face. It was sickening and disgusting and it was all his fault.

"Lavi," Allen said, stepping even closer and resting his hands on Lavi's chest, "What do you think?"

"I… I," Lavi stuttered.

"I felt I should fit the part. That's what I was thinking when I did it. You said I was disgusting, and I am, I just wanted to look it on the outside… I think that's what I was thinking anyway. I really don't know what I'm thinking half the time. So, what are you thinking Lavi?"

He moved even closer, his face mere millimetres from Lavi's own.

"I think… that, I'm sorry," Lavi breathed, all the while his head was thinking '_Please don't kiss me again, please don't kiss me, please don't'._

"You're sorry?" Allen said moving closer, lips brushing slightly. His mind repeating continuously, _'I want to kiss him, I need to kiss him'._

Lavi wanted to run away again, but he didn't want to knowing that if he did it would have a bad effect on Allen. He didn't want to end up hurting him again.

_'Please don't, please don't, please. I don't want to feel _that _again.'_

…

**Yeah, whatever. **

**Feel free to tell me how shit it was. There is a bit of a chance that it would have been slightly less shit if I had spent a little more time on it, but I wanted it out tonight.**

**People who follow my other stories, the next chapter of APLT will be out in a day or two… possible three, I'm getting it looked over but I still don't know if I like it.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Questions you can't answer.**

Allen stared down at the two pills in front of him, resting next to a glass of apple and blackcurrant juice.

"Just take them, Allen," his father sighed, rubbing his hand over his face.

He continued to stare down at the pills and the glass, feeling fear. His heart sped up and he was finding it hard to breath. He didn't want to take them, he was terrified of taking those pills.

"Come on, Allen," his father said, his voice quaking, "Please, please just take them."

His voice was strained and desperate, making Allen feel a pang of guilt. He pushed the pills into the palm of his hand and looked down at them. He didn't want to take them, but to ease his father's mind, he brought the pills up and slapped them into his mouth. He immediately grabbed the glass and took a deep swig. As he did he slipped the pills back into the juice, hoping his father wouldn't notice. Slamming the juice back down on the table, he pushed himself away and got up to leave.

"There I took them," he spat.

"Wait," his father called sternly.

"Yes?"

"Finish the juice."

"Why?"

"Because it's good for you," he said, staring up at Allen, looking him straight in the eye.

"Not thirsty."

"Drink it Allen!" His father yelled making him jump in his seat.

Allen's eyes darted around the room and he hesitated some before answering.

"No."

Grabbing the glass his father stood and pushed it towards his mouth, tipping it and forcing the liquid between his lips. He chocked and splattered, trails of juice running down his chin and dripping onto his jeans. His father grabbed his nose, squeezing it, forcing him to swallow the juice. The gritty residue of partially dissolved tablets slide along his tongue and down his throat, leaving a bad taste in his mouth. With the juice gone, his father set the glass down and stepped back, horrified at what he had down. Allen gasped from breath and swallowed repeatedly trying to get rid of the last bitter remains of the pills.

"Sorry," his father breathed, "But it's for your own good."

Leaning back in his chair Allen's fear increased tenfold. HIs heart thumped so heavily in his chest he could hear it vibrating in his ears. It was so heavy he felt as if his entire chest was being pushed further and further forward. He could feel those pills inside of him, spreading out like tiny little tree roots. Tiny, but spreading so far it would be impossible to find and remove them all. He could feel them spreading through his body, wrapping their tiny veins around his heart and his mind. They crawled and forced themselves across his skin. They were everywhere.

He couldn't deal with them, he needed the source out of him before those horrible little roots could spread too far. He pushed away from the table, his chair falling over and tangling in his legs. He fell over slamming to the floor in a heap. Despite the pain he felt he scrambled on the floor kicking the chair away and pushing himself up. He ran from the room heading for the bathroom. Behind him he heard the sound of furniture scrapping across the floor, knowing that his father was chasing after him. He didn't care, his father couldn't stop him.

Reaching the bathroom he landed on his knees, skidding across the floor, skidding to a halt in front of the toilet. Lifting the lid with one hand, he leant forward and heaved over the bowl. He could feel it in his stomach, trying to strangle him. He needed it out, so he shoved his fingers down his throat. Just as he did, his father burst into the bathroom, catching a full view of Allen shoving his fingers down his throat.

He rushed forward, grabbing Allen and pulling his hands away too late. As he pulled him back, Allen leaned forward and threw up, only just making it into the bowl. He felt a large amount of relief as it all came up. The feeling of those tiny roots slowly disappearing. However there was a small lingering feeling, he had to make sure it was all gone. So even as he coughed and his throat constricted he moved to shove his fingers back down his throat.

"Allen!" his father yelled, grabbing both his wrists in a tight hold.

"Lemme go!" Allen yelled, trying to away, his wrists burning from the grip.

His father wrapped an arm around his chest, puling his son back against him. Allen struggled, his left wrist still held tight, his right gripping tightly to the fabric of his jeans. Letting out a cry of pain, Allen leant his head back to rest against his father's chest. He beat his fist against his thigh, his other hand still held tight.

He started to sob uncontrollable, rolling his head back and forth.

He couldn't stand it, he could still feel those roots burrowing inside of him.

…

Lavi didn't exactly like getting random phone calls from Allen's father, practically begging him to come over and talk to Allen. He wanted to shout down the phone that he had his own things to do, even if those things weren't until later in the evening. He didn't say anything because he was feeling guilty. He hadn't seen Allen since he was discharged from the hospital some three weeks earlier. He hadn't spoken to him for almost two weeks, and he felt guilty. He knew that at the time Allen was feeling, well, vulnerable, but he just couldn't see him.

Things were strange between them, and Lavi really couldn't stand how 'clingy' Allen could get. The feelings that Allen had for him scared him. He didn't know how to really interpret them. He didn't feel for Allen that way, but he was scared of doing anything about it because he didn't know how Allen would react. The first time Allen had shown his feeling to Lavi he had carved into his face and ended up in the hospital. The second time, while they were on the roof together, Lavi had ended up pushing him to the ground and running away. He returned a day later to find Allen had pulled a loose wire from the fence surrounding the roof and stabbed himself repeatedly in the wrist. Afterwards he returned to his room bleeding as if nothing had happened.

Lavi last saw him as he was gathering his things to leave. Allen spoke about therapists he would be forced to see, drugs he was told to take, his displeasure at both of them. He listened carefully, even helped him pack away his things, the whole time listening and nodding along to Allen's every word. When everything was packed away, he said good bye to Allen and promised to call him. He called a few times over the next week and then nothing for the next two. He couldn't handle it, but when Allen's father called him sounding desperate, he felt obligated to go and see them. Even if he had already made plans.

Lenalee had rang him about half an hour before Allen's father had. She had invited him to party at her house, apologised for the way all his 'friends' treated him, and said they all missed him and wished to start over. She then said some truly awful things about Allen, but Lavi decided to ignore them. As mush as he hated his own weakness he did miss his old life of friends and parties. His life with out constantly having to worry about saying or doing the wrong thing. So he agreed to go, looking forward to having a drink and just relaxing and talking shit with his so called 'friends'. And then it happened, Allen's father called, desperate and not making to much sense, so he set out for Allen's house at the other end of town.

Arriving at the house, he knocked on the door that was thrown open a second later.

"Thank God you're here!" Allen's father yelled rushing through the door, "Allen's up on the roof, I can't get to him, every time I try to climb on the roof he pushes the ladder down, the last time he grabbed the ladder and pulled it up onto the roof with him. I'm so scared Lavi, I'm so scared…"

What followed was a hurried explanation of how he had found out Allen wasn't taking his antidepressants. How his father had tried to confront him about it, and when he had forced the pills on Allen, he had forcibly made himself vomit to get them out of his body. Afterwards Allen had broken down in the bathroom and then ran off to sit on the roof.

Lavi didn't know how to deal with the near to crying adult in front of him begging for help. He finally managed to push him off, saying he would deal with it to the best of his ability.

After walking the parameter of the house a few times, Lavi managed to find a way up on to the roof. It was a little risky, he'd have to jump at the roof from a tree branch. There was only a two feet gap, but the whole idea of jumping from a tree to a roof when there was a drop over eight metres, it was a little scary. Yet he was still obligated, so he climbed the tree, trying not to mess himself as he grabbed the tree branch a little to tightly. When it came time to jump to the roof he found himself gripping to the branch a little too tightly. The thought of jumping to the roof was so much more terrifying now that he was actually going to do it, than it had from down on the ground. It took him a full ten minutes to work up the courage to finally jump to the roof. It was easier than he expected, but that didn't stop him from clinging to the roof tiles for more than just a few minutes.

When he finally managed to get up and stand on the roof, he immediately noticed an almost bald head in the distance. He made his way slowly over the slopped roof, making his way towards Allen. He was seated on one of the peaks of the roof, head down, looking at nothing. Lavi made his way over to Allen carefully, slightly scared by the height and the slopes.

He could tell Allen knew he was coming, yet he didn't say anything until Lavi managed to make his way across the roof and sit next to him.

"Hey, Lavi," he mumbled, his chin resting on his knees.

"Hey, Allen," Lavi replied.

"Haven't seen you for a while."

"Yeah, I've been… busy."

"Busy," Allen scoffed, " Busy doing what? School's finished, University doesn't start for another few months, you've got nothing to be busy about."

"I've got lots to be busy about, just because it doesn't involve school doesn't mean I'm not busy."

"Yeah, sure," Allen mumbled into his knees.

Lavi remained silent trying to think of what to say next. He took in Allen's appearance instead, his hair had grown back a little, almost a centimetre of fuzz showing. Lavi didn't fail to notice that almost half of it was a much lighter shade than the rest of it. He was doing his usual thing of rubbing the pad of this thumb across his wrist, and his foot tapped relentlessly against the roof.

"Allen," Lavi finally said.

"Yeah?"

"Why wont you take the anti depressants?"

Allen visibly shrank into himself and the rubbing against his wrist became more hurried and frantic, his nails occasionally digging in.

"Allen, please tell me."

Allen fidgeted a little more before finally answering.

"I'm scared," he said, barely above a whisper.

"Scared of what?" Lavi asked quickly, not wanting the conversation to end.

"I'm… scared of what the pills will make me feel," Allen breathed.

"What do you mean?" Lavi asked just as quickly.

"If… If I take those pills, everything I feel… It wont be real. What I'm feeling now is real, this feeling, this… misery, it's real. If I took those pills and felt 'happy' all I could ever think about is that I'm not truly happy. I don't want to feel a fake happiness. If I feel happy, I want it to be natural, not something forced upon me by drugs. Even if I did take them, and felt happy… I think there would still be something nagging at the corner of my mind, that everything I felt wasn't real. I know it sounds weird, but that's what I feel."

After he finished, Allen looked up and half heartedly smiled at Lavi.

"I'm sorry," Allen said, "I know it's hard to understand if you've never felt this way, but, how can I describe in a way you would understand?"

"I dunno," Lavi replied, starting to wish he just hadn't agreed to come.

Allen gripped his hands tightly together, wringing them.

"I've got an idea of how it feels, just a small one."

"I want to know," Lavi said, suppressing a sigh.

"Have you ever watched a movie, or a T.V. show, read a book, that you got so caught up in that when it's over, even if it was a good ending, that when it's over you felt somewhat… disappointed? Like when it ended you realised that what you were watching wasn't real, and when it's over you have to deal with the real world."

"I guess," Lavi replied.

"It's a bit like that, I'm not sure if you understand, but that's the best way I can describe it."

Lavi didn't know what to say, no matter how hard he tried to comprehend Allen's mind he just couldn't do it. He couldn't understand the thought of someone not wanting to feel happy. It was right there in front of him, why couldn't he take it?

While Lavi thought, the silence drew out, and Allen started to trace along his wrist again.

"I've got something for you Allen," Lavi said remembering what he had shoved in his pocket before he left. He drew it out of his pocket and presented it to Allen.

"It's a rubber band," Allen said bluntly.

"I know that," Lavi said.

He leaned over and gripped Allen's wrist lightly. Lavi slipped the rubber band over his hand, settling it against his scared wrist.

"I've been reading up on certain things, I've read that… you should wear a rubber band around your wrist."

"Why?" Allen asked.

"Every time you get the urge to… hurt yourself, just flick the rubber band."

"Flick it?" Allen asked, almost scoffing.

"Yeah, I heard it works, so just… flick it when you feel that urge."

Allen immediately started to flick the rubber band against his wrist which quickly started to turn red.

"Hey, Lavi?" Allen asked, continuing to flick the band against his wrist with his thumb and forefinger.

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever thought about death?"

Lavi frowned at the questing, of course he hadn't thought about death.

"No… why do you ask?"

"Well, I was just thinking… when you die, is it perhaps like when you sleep, like a blackness, or continuous dreams like in sleep? What I wonder most about is if it's just darkness, and even if it's just darkness, would I be able to see it? I just can't comprehend the thought of not being able to think. Even if I was to die tomorrow, I still believe I'd still be able to think. Isn't that strange?"

"I thought you didn't want to die?" Lavi asked, watching Allen continue to flick the rubber band, a welt forming.

"I don't, but what I've been thinking of, is what people think when they decide they want to die. Do they truly think that there is nothing after death? How would those people know they wouldn't feel anything anymore? How do they know they wouldn't be trapped in some dark place? Maybe that's what death is, floating around some dark place, thinking that you'll wake up at some point. It's so interesting that I almost want to try. Just to see what I would see if I were to die."

"Why are you thinking this?" Lavi asked, feeling sick.

Allen stopped flicking the rubber band at last and looked up at Lavi for the first time since the conversation started.

"I saw a woman kill herself," he said softly, his mind obviously caught up in a memory.

"What?" Lavi asked shocked, he'd never heard that from Allen before.

"I was around Thirteen, and I was waiting for a train. I'd jumped on a train straight after school and travelled the four stops to go to a book store I liked. I don't know why I liked going there, but it was my book store, so I had to go there even if another store was closer. It was when I was going back when I saw it."

Allen paused his memories and started to flick at the band around his wrist again.

"I didn't think anything bad could happen sitting at a train station at four forty-two in the after noon. You know that announcement that calls out when your waiting on the platform?

'An express train will pass this station in approximately, one, minute, please stand behind the yellow safety line, until the train has passed.'

"I'm sure you know the announcement, and I'm sure you know how fast express trains can be going when they pass a station. The train that planned to pass the station I was at, was going at over one hundred and ten kilometres' per hour… Can you imagine being hit by that?"

Lavi shook his head and motioned for Allen to continue.

"Well there was this woman standing on the platform holding this little girls hand. She wasn't very old, five maybe six. I could hear the train coming, and, from some reason I was just looking at this woman and kid, I think it was because she was so close to the edge. Anyway, when the train came, she let go of the kids hand, and just stepped off the platform. One second she was there, the next she was gone, and then this kid was just screaming. The train stopped some where up the tracks, and there was blood… flicked up the side of it, and you could see… parts of a human body that shouldn't be seen.

"What was she thinking when she did that? If she was planning on killing herself, why bring the kid along? Was she even planning? Or did she just see her chance and decide to take it then and there? I'd really like to know what she was thinking when she jumped, right in front of her kid, and me, and half a dozen other people waiting on the platform."

Lavi was too shocked to say anything, he felt sick thinking about it. He felt sorry for Allen for what he had to see, and he felt even worse for the little girl, who know had to grow up knowing her mother, or guardian, or sister, killed themselves right in front of them.

"I can't answer any of those questions," Lavi said at last, swallowing this sick feeling in his throat.

"I didn't think you could, but it's feels good to ask them anyway."

"Does you father know? What you saw?"

"No," Allen said with a shake of his head, "That's the first time I told anyone."

While Allen was in a talkative mood Lavi asked him something else that was bugging him.

"Why are you hiding on the roof?"

"I like high places," he said with a simple shrug.

"When are you gonna go back down?"

"Dunno. When you leave maybe."

"Well I'll be leaving soon I've got somewhere to be. Do you want to go down now?"

"I'll wait until your gone."

"Just go down with me, you're father's worried sick about you. I think he's ready to have a heart attack."

Allen pondered for a moment before finally agreeing with a nod. They grabbed the ladder Allen had hauled up onto the room with him and made their way back down.

Lavi forced Allen to go down first, and followed shortly after. The second Allen's foot hit the ground he was almost tackled by his father. He sobbed into Allen's shoulder, holding him painfully tight. While they were caught up, Lavi took his chance to slip away, giving Allen a short wave as he turned to leave. He didn't fail to notice just how hurt Allen seemed to look as he gave his own short wave back.

…

Lavi hadn't know what he was expecting when he showed up at the party. It was strange that the people who had shunned him so recently were now talking to him like nothing had happened. He found himself having a good time, that was until everyone drank more, and tongues started to loosen.

Lavi was stupid, he knew he should have watched what he said. Some how the conversation turned to Allen, and Lavi said a little more than he should have. Mainly about the fact that Allen had kissed him.

A fight started because Lavi found himself defending Allen once again, and the next thing he knew, a glass bottle was being smashed against the side of his face.

,,,

**I honestly don't know how long this is going to be. So I'll just keep letting this write it's self and we'll see where it all ends up alright?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Yadda, yadda, crappy chapter full of mistakes.**

**Stay, be still. You be still.**

The door shook and rattled loudly as the beating continued.

"Allen!" his Father cried out, slamming into the door once again.

Allen watched the door with some amusement as he sat on the edge of the bathtub. He sat up straight, completely stiff, his arms resting wrist up along the length of his horizontal thighs. Small trails of blood dribbled down his arms and stained his dark blue jeans maroon. The cuts weren't that bad he knew, because there was only so much you could do with the sharpened edge of a butter knife. He had secretly been grinding the edge of the knife against anything he could find since his father had taken and hidden anything even remotely sharp in the house. The knife didn't do much, just pull at his skin and tear it a little, but it was enough. Although the cuts weren't deep, there were plenty of them. Lines of jagged red covered his arms so completely that pale skin was hard to distinguish.

"Allen!" his father cried out again, "Open this door right now!"

"No," Allen said, simply. For some reason he found the whole thing funny and even laughed slightly.

The bashing continued and then the door thumped louder than before. The door began to snap and creak until finally it flung open with a shower of splintered wood. It flung open with such force that it snapped back, hit the wall and slammed back into the frame. Not two seconds later the door was pushed back open and his father came running in.

"Oh god, Allen," his father said, falling to his knees in front of him.

His hands were shaking as he reached out and lifted Allen's wrists gently. He draw them towards him, inspecting closely the mince meat his son had made out of his arms.

"Shit," he said, gently resting Allen's hands back on his thighs, "Why do you keep doing this?" he asked sounding desperate. He was running his hands through his hair and tugging at it at the ends, pulling out stray hairs, which Allen watched as they fluttered to the ground.

"Because it doesn't matter any more," Allen sighed, lifting his left wrist to inspect it closer, "You already know, and so does everyone else. I can do this as much as I want now, everyone knows. I don't have to hide anything from anyone any more."

Standing up abruptly his father slapped him hard across the face. Allen was shocked and didn't know what to do. His father had never hit him before and the feeling was completely new to him. It was strange and although pain wasn't anything new, the whole experience was unpleasant, and he didn't like it.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!?" his father cried, and Allen found he had no answer.

He gapped up at his father and the first thought that came to his head was rejection. He felt his eyes start to fill with hot scolding tears as he continued to look up.

"I'm sorry, Allen," he father said, kneeling back down again and pressing a shaking hand to his cheek.

As Allen began to cry, his father stood again, taking the discarded knife from the floor with him. He shoved the thing is his back pocket and pulled his mobile out of his front pocket soon after. As he called for an ambulance Allen cried softly his eyes locked on his father on the phone. He was scared now, scared that his father had finally had enough and was going to leave him. He sobbed louder and slid off the bath onto his knees. Raising his blooded arms he grabbed onto the fabric of his fathers jeans and cried against his legs.

With the phone call over, he knelt on the ground and hugged his son who continued to sob against him. The tears seeming to never end, more always springing up.

They were still in the same position when there was a knock at the door. Allen had to be lifted up because he couldn't stand, so his father carried him to the door. The paramedics were at the door and made him sit Allen down on the couch. The three of them conversed between each other, speaking in words that Allen couldn't understand. He simply clung to his father and continued to sniffle as a young man, not much older than himself, wrapped his arms tightly. With wrists tightly bound he was made to stand and make his way over to the waiting ambulance.

All over again, as if his crying fit had never happened, he started to find the whole thing funny again. He chuckled as the paramedics helped him into the back of the ambulance and sat him down. His father ran off back into the house and reappeared a few minutes later with a small bag, locking the door behind him. He jogged back to the ambulance and jumped in, settling himself into a seat right across from the still laughing Allen. The whole thing was some how funny, even as tears still leaked from his eyes. He giggled when little electronic pads were attached to his upper arms, his chest and his thighs, forcing him to pull his jeans down to attach them. He didn't like the feel of them, or the way that the paramedics seemed to talk about him as if he wasn't a person, but something else. The laughter died down and instead he focused his eyes out the window, watching the familiar streets flash by.

Approaching the hospital he noticed they by passed Emergency completely and continued on a bit further down. Through the window he saw the words 'Psychiatric' in cold grey letters, screwed onto a plain brick wall. He felt his heart started to beat heavily and somewhere in the ambulance some small machine stared to beep and he didn't like it. They pulled up to a doorway and next to the door on a stark white panel read the words 'Psychiatric Emergency'. The sticky electronic pads were removed from his body and he was forced out of the ambulance and towards the door. He felt himself as a zombie as he was pulled towards the doors by the crook of his arms.

He could hear his fathers voice, but nothing went in. The gravity of the situation was finally settling in, and he didn't like the sound of 'Psychiatric Emergency'. He didn't want to be there, he just wanted to go home. Yet he remained a zombie, letting himself be pulled around, sat down, and then pulled up again. The paramedics were gone, back in the ambulance, but his father remained.

"I've packed a few things for him," he heard his father say as he held out the bag. It was the first thing coherent he had heard.

"I'm sorry but patients can't take any personal items with them into the rooms," the nurse spoke, completely emotionless. The tone used was one who had seen enough and just didn't care any more.

Suddenly all Allen wanted was that small bag that his father held in his hands. He wanted and needed that bag, most likely filled with clothing that Allen himself didn't like but he wanted it anyway. To him it was connection to his father and he knew then that he would be staying the night, without his father and without any contact to the outside world.

_Lavi._

He wanted that bag and he started to cry again. When the nurse failed to comply he started to scream and tear at the bandages on his arms. He was held back by two other nurses, trying his hardest to reach out and grab the bag in his fathers grip. He wanted to grab his father, hug him close, beg him not to abandon him, not to leave him there.

"Is this really alright?" his father demanded over the shouting.

"He's obviously not any better so he'll have to stay here over night for observation," the nurse at the counter said.

"Dad!" Allen yelled desperately, "Dad!"

His father was obviously torn, he didn't know what to do.

"It's best if he stay's here over night," the nurse continued, never once looking at Allen while they spoke.

His father seemed to think for a while, running his hand through his hair, pulling our more hair. Allen struggled, trying to reach out to him but unable to with the arms locked around his elbows. He watched as his father looked up and locked eyes with him, his face in a totally defeated expression.

"They're right, Allen," he said, barely above a whisper. His words were quiet, but Allen heard everyone of them.

The fight went out of him and Allen watched his father walk away, gripping the small bag tightly as he turned and left the place. Allen remained limp and let himself be dragged away.

He remained mute and unresponsive as he was dragged to an examination room. He waited, being watched the whole time, for twenty minutes before a doctor appeared.

"Let's see what we've got here," the doctor said, completely routine.

The doctor unwrapped the bandages and then re wrapped with fresh bandages. The doctor asked if he had had a tetanus shot recently and Allen said no, even though he had in fact had one last time he was in. It didn't matter to him, and obviously the hospital staff didn't bother to check his file as they quickly injected him with another shot.

When the doctor was done he was led to a room, with a hospital bed and nothing else. The room was small and empty. No set of draws, no washroom, nothing but a bed in a small room with windows that wouldn't open. He was scared and frustrated, and he wanted a smoke. Something to help calm the nerves. His shook himself out of his zombie state and instead turned to anger. He started to yell at the door, cursing the staff and yelling random insults. He torn at the bandages at his wrist, pulling them off and throwing them at the door in a weak act of defiance. His arms dribbled a little blood, but most of it had stopped and he considered scratching at his arms so that they would reopen.

He found some sense though, because he knew if he did his stay would be longer.

Instead he tore the sheets and the pillow off the bed and huddled himself into a corner, wrapping the sheets tight around himself. He created a small cocoon for himself, jamming the pillow into the the corner of the wall behind his head. He almost started to cry again but forced himself not too. His eyes hurt and throbbed in his skull from all the crying. He was emotionally and mentally exhausted, his whole body and mind feeling heavy. Wanting nothing more than to go home and sleep he had to try and make do. If he were to fall asleep then the hours would disappear, lost in time and it would be tomorrow and he could go home.

Sleep wouldn't come though, he found no peace. The empty room and the sounds from outside the locked door bothered him. Every now and then he saw a face look through the small glass window in the door, look at him and walk away. Making sure he wasn't dead or other wise injured. Every time a face peered through the window he would try to lock eyes with them, pleading, wanting them to open the door and let him out, or at least talk to him. He felt completely alone and lost.

Sitting up through the night, he would find small moments of sleep that lasted no more than ten minutes at a time before being jolted awake. His head and his heart pounding, driving him to the point of tears again which he wouldn't indulge in. He needed to remain calm as much as he wanted to rage and cry. Remaining calm meant he would be able to leave in the morning. He knew he wouldn't be able to handle another night in the place. The sound of the door locking him in rattled around his head, echoing around and around.

Some where close to dawn, when the grey walls were starting to change to a light blue with the rising sun, he slipped off into a deeper sleep. After an hour or so he woke again, the room brighter and slightly warmer. He could smell food and there was a tray laid out on his bed, no one bothering to wake him for it. He stood up slowly as his body was stiff from sitting in such a position for so long. Everything ached as he made his way over to the tray, his sleep deprived head throbbing painfully.

His breakfast was a cup of luke warm coffee, a piece of dry toast that he knew was cold when it arrived. Next to the toast was a spoonful of scrambled eggs, some leather like pieces of bacon and some beans. On the tray next to the coffee was an apple. He picked up the apple and took two bites before dropping it back on the tray and spitting out the half chewed chunks. PIcking up the coffee he drank the whole thing down, ignoring the milk and sugar provided. He set the empty cup back down and went back to his pile of sheets, huddling himself back into the tangle and trying to sleep once again. His bleary eyes stayed focused on the door, hoping it would open.

When the door finally did open and someone peered around the corner, he couldn't even get up, being too exhausted.

"You're father has come to get you. After the doctor looks over you once more you're good to go," she said with a soothing voice.

She wasn't like the nurses from the night before who seemed so emotionless. He liked her immediately, and immediately memorised everything about her because she was a kind face in a dark place.

"W-what's your name?" Allen asked, trying to pull himself up.

She wandering into the room, waddling slightly because of the size of her hips and thighs.

"Meredith," she said with a smile, helping him to his feet.

She helped him out of the room and he clung to her desperately, afraid to let go. Walking back into the examination room from last night he refused to let her go as the doctor checked over him. It was a different doctor from last night and he tsked and clicked his tongue at Allen's arms, both crusted with dried blood and open to the world. The doctor disinfected his arms once again and bandaged them up, right to the elbows. He watched the whole thing through blurry eyes, the craving for a cigarette growing with each passing minute.

The friendly nurse helped him up and held onto his arm the whole way out. He needed it too, without her there to help him he knew he would have fallen over. They pushed through a set of doors and the first thing he saw was his father waiting for him, in the same clothes as yesterday, the same small backpack gripped tightly in his arms. Upon seeing Allen he dropped the bag and began to walk over to him. Allen pulled himself from the nurse's chubby arm and stumbled towards his father. They crashed against each other and Allen gripped his fathers shirt in tight fists to avoid stumbling over. He felt the tears spring up again but in relief. Hugging his father in a grip that was sure to be painful he let his body relax and he began to notice just how tense he was the whole time as his muscles began to ache.

The two of them stumbled out the door of the hospital, neither of them willing to let go of the other. The stopped for only a moment to pick up the discarded backpack. Once outside Allen thought to himself that air had never smelt so good before, even though it was tainted with the smell of car exhaust and the underlying stench of the hospital. The smell of cigarette smoke wafted over to him from someone and he felt the craving all over again, whining a little to himself.

His father disentangled them and opened the backpack. From it he pulled a packet of cigarettes and handed them to him. Allen was a little surprised that his father seemed to be accepting his smoking habit so easily. Allen had made a point of never smoking in front of him knowing he wouldn't like it. Yet there he was offering a packet which he took gratefully. He lit the first one with a shaky hand and smoked the whole thing in less than a minute. The second one went down slower and his hand shook less. By the forth one he felt alright, more awake and a little more steady on his feet. When lighting the fifth one, his father took the packet off of him, only to light himself one.

"You're not the only one who's stressed," his father said, puffing away.

The both of them chain smoked for awhile before Allen finally spoke.

"Can we go see, Lavi?" he asked softly, almost pleaded.

His father stiffened as he knew he would. After all it was the news that Lavi was in the hospital that had set Allen off in the first place. While out Lavi had been glassed, the shards of glass had become stuck between his eye patch and his already blind eye, carving into the soft flesh and causing heavy bleeding along with the other cuts to his face. He had to have the eye removed surgically and when Allen found out he had locked himself in the bathroom.

"I don't think that's a good idea right now," his father sighed, stubbing out his third cigarette.

Allen whined and went to light what would be his tenth cigarette. Before he could his father snatched it from his hand and shoved it back in the packet.

"Fine, let's go see, Lavi," he sighed in resignation.

There was a brief smile on Allen's face that fell just as quickly. They walked their way up to the main hospital where Lavi was staying. Allen swayed occasionally from time to time from the exhaustion and sleep deprivation.

Lavi was asleep when they reached his room, padded white cotton taped over his right eye. Allen stumbled towards Lavi's bed and stared down at him. HIs eyes were glassy and deep black and purple rings circled his eyes, almost looking like a bad make up job.

Not wanting to wake him or leave him either, he climbed into the bed and curled up against him. Lavi stirred and looked around the room, he focused on Allen's father first and then to Allen curled up next to him, picking at the fabric from the blanket.

"What the fu-" he started and then saw the look on Allen's face.

He could immediately tell that Allen was exhausted and the bright white bandaging around his arms seemed to shine.

"What happened?" he grumbled, his voice still thick with sleep.

Allen didn't reply and instead shuffled closer. Not knowing what to do or think, Lavi wrapped an arm around him, letting him crawl closer and rest his head on Lavi's shoulder.

"I'm going to go grab a coffee," Allen's father spoke up, "Would you two like one?"

"Yes, please," they said at the same time.

Allen laughed a little and snuggled closer to Lavi.

"Thanks," Lavi slurred.

Allen's father nodded and left the room. Allen started to play with the edge of the blanket against, pulling at it and picking at stray threads. He pulled thread after thread out, letting them flutter out and fall to the floor, all the while resting against Lavi.

Lavi was a little confused, he had gone to sleep by force of a needle. Knowing when he woke up he would truly only have one eye. When he woke up Allen was lying next to him, looking like shit with fresh bandages wrapped from wrist to elbow. Despite everything, he didn't regret defending Allen that night. Those people didn't know what Allen had been through and the thoughts that went through his head. He laughter internally because sometimes his thoughts were just as muddled and confused as Allen's. That night he was just glad to be away from Allen, now he was in a way glad that he was there, albeit looking half dead.

"What happened?" Lavi asked again, more awake.

Allen stopped fiddling with the edge of the blanket and instead curled his hands into the fabric of Lavi's hospital gown.

"I had a bad night," Allen breathed.

"Tell me about it?" Lavi asked.

He surprised himself with the question, but more so when he pulled Allen closer to himself.

Slowly and softly Allen told him about his night in the Psychiatric ward and the fear he had felt. He heard how tired he was and about the one nurse that showed him any form of kindness. He spoke about standing out the front of the hospital and chain smoking with his father, right up to the point that they appeared in front of Lavi.

"Why'd you do it this time?" Lavi asked when the story was over.

"I dunno, like usual, but… I heard about what happened to you. And, it hurt, a lot."

Guilt gnawed at Lavi at the fact that he had once again been the cause behind Allen hurting himself, even if this time it had been indirect.

"You don't have to do that for me," Lavi mumbled.

"I'm sorry," Allen mumbled as well, tilting his head up to look Lavi in the eye.

They stared at each other and when Allen began to move up Lavi knew what he was planning to do and did nothing to stop him. Allen's cracked and swollen lips met his once again and Lavi let him. He was too scared to push him away like he had done previously. Scared that Allen would hurt himself again from the rejection, and maybe this time he wouldn't be saveable. He let Allen kiss him and then surprised himself when he kissed him back. It was wrong, he knew it was, but he didn't want to hurt him further so he gave him what he wanted. Also, in a shut up and locked away part of his mind, it felt good, just a little bit, there was something about it that felt good.

Lavi blamed it on the fact that he hadn't been laid or even touched sexually for a very long time. It never even entered his thoughts that maybe he liked Allen in a certain way. There was no way that could happen.

Allen broke the kiss some time later and leant his head back on Lavi's shoulder, wrapping an arm around him.

"Thank you," he breathed, closing his eyes.

Lavi was in a small amount of shock at Allen having kissed him once again and because he had kissed him back. But he was scared, oh so scared, that if he had done anything less Allen would be pushed over the edge. It was the fear of future guilt and the thought that Allen might just end up cutting too deep one day because of him. He didn't want that, and he didn't want the guilt gnawing at his mind for years to come.

He kissed him back, and now that it was done, Lavi just felt worse.

Now Allen would be even more attached to him. He began to wonder just how far further he had emerged himself. He started to feel sick and was about to call for the nurse, telling them that he was in pain so that they could give him something that would put him to sleep. Unfortunately that was the moment when Allen's father stepped back into the room, holding a tray with three steaming cups of coffee.

He set the coffee down on a chair and stepped towards the two figures. He smiled slightly seeing that Allen was asleep and ran a hand through his short and stubbled hair affectionately.

Lavi felt even worse when he realised that Allen's father relied on him too. He felt sick. He cared but he didn't know if he cared enough. He just wanted it to all go away. He wanted to be there but at the same time he wanted nothing to do with it. He wished that he had never gone after Allen that day months again, yet glad he did at the same time.

He pulled Allen closer and accepted the coffee from his father, wondering how on earth he was going to get himself out of this mess.

…

**Blah!**

**It's pathetic I know, whatever, at least I updated at last!**

**One reviewer was curious about why I hadn't done a Psych. stay previously so I hope this makes up for it. The experience was told to me by a few different people who have had to stay the night in a Psych ward after self harm. I more or less combined all their stories into one but still left a few things out. In all honestly it was too hard to write.**

**I'm sorry this is so disappointing.**


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